LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 13

Zaur Stugr remained pensively silent for a time; moreover, there was a marked skepticism in his narrowed, hard eyes that showed he was hitherto unconvinced.

01 A ZAUR STUGR JP (5)

Deizvor had been deemed until then, a mastermind linguist of the known world’s vernacular, and had furthermore, excelled in deciphering the most remote and varied indigenous groups’ sign-languages. This strange dialect which confounded (mystified) him, had to have been a most recent, ingeniously devised means of communication; if so, this warranted a prompt, in-depth (thorough) investigation into this matter. Kozurs’ linguistic team, soon put to the task, must decipher (decode) and then pass it on to their most trusted agents in Korion (and other foreign lands), before the predictable consequences could be amplified.

Zaur nevertheless curtailing his impatience sternly motioned for Deizvor to carry on with his report.

"Despite my exasperation I was reluctant to leave and stood my ground so as to note their every action.  At one point they received what looked to be a set of written instructions from him, one can only presume that it was, directive for their next assignment.  Unfortunately, after reading the contents and nodding their acceptance, they tore it in half and consumed it.  Then, at the apparent conclusion of their business, the contact thrust a money pouch (for future expenditures) into Hugen’s hand and summarily took his leave.  I debated, of course, whether to pursue this newcomer or to persist with the surveillance on those two birds (spies) who had their heads together and looked to be hatching more plots.  Also, I wanted to see where they would finally end up and if need be, arrange to have a backup to continue on with the shadowing, while I promptly returned to relay my report. "

"And this was done?"

"Yes, sir," Deizvor hastily imparted their present whereabouts.  "Even though their contact could not be traced, we had these two fully covered, sir.  They ‘ll be dogged wherever they go from now on."

Zaur looked down to hide the anger in his eyes.  “Fool!  They’d already found you out… They were playing you.”

“What a waste. You should have gone for reinforcements the moment they made contact and apprehended all three.”  But then, Zaur did not encourage that kind of initiative.  Deizvor, after all, had done exactly as he’d supposed to.

"When they switched back to Korionese what they said took me by complete surprise." Catching Deizvor ' excitement, Zaur Stugr looked up.

02- DEISVOR

Deizvor was shaking his head and had begun to whisper in a barely audible voice, "Now I know for certain the identity of the assassin.  The Kontu emissaries were grievously wronged.  It was all a diabolical deception concocted by no less than KeTizan, Chief Minister of our formerly trustworthy ally, Xexos."

"Xexos is it then?"  Zaur exclaimed in an incredulous voice, frowning; he was fast losing his patience. “It’s a pity your presence was detected.”  Relations between the subjugated Korion and Wenjenkun's catspaw, Xexos, had always been strained.  Zaur had already deduced that Korion was behind the plot and the lengths to which their spies went to feed the patently false information about Xexos only strengthened his suspicion.

"Yes, sir, Xexos …  They were behind it all.  Who would have thought it?  Nevertheless, we now have sure confirmation of that fact."  Deizvor checking his rising doubt, nevertheless, went on to repeat, word for word, the ingeniously implanted evidence the spies had fed him.  "These Korion spies, I later learned through discreet investigation of the sources they alluded to in their conversation, were part of an independent body of observers and couriers.  Wizened to the plot against Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek, they had been sent on to obtain a firsthand report of the developments in our country."

“At best it is more likely that they were sent here to get an independent view of the actions taken by Korion's emissaries and relay it back to their King without delay.  In the worst-case scenario, they probably had orders to assassinate those same emissaries should things go awry.” Zaur Stugr inwardly scoffed.  “Xexos, indeed…  As if we would be so gullible; so easily be duped into fighting their border wars for them.  Would they never learn?”  Zaur continued to listen with remarkable restraint to Deizvor s' specifics about the supposed conspiracy, mildly amused at times, by the tale they’d spun.  Once Deizvor had finished Zaur promptly dismissed him without comment and had just finished preparing for a return to his office when the arrival of a special courier was announced.

This night had been particularly long, too long.  Zaur’s temples throbbed, and he rubbed them absentmindedly to relieve the pressure building up then looked up to acquiesce sternly, "All right, bring him in."

The courier was briskly ushered in.  He advanced smartly all the way in, to abrupt halt before the desk.  He bowed respectfully then, reaching into his inner pocket, withdrew an envelope which he presented to Zaur.

Zaur Stugr briefly examined the familiar seal for tampering and smiled.  It was from one of his best recruits.  "How is he?" he asked the courier, studying the man's reaction from the top of his downcast eyes.

"He anticipated your question, sir, and bade me to tell you that he is faring handsomely, having made great strides.  He hopes to furnish you with more proof in the coming days that is if his proposal goes through smoothly, without undue hindrance from the one he said you would know."

Zaur Stugr appeared pleased with this cryptic message and, with a closed smile, relayed an equally esoteric (arcane) reply of his own before he dismissed the courier.  When he was sure he was alone he broke open the seal, took out the letter from its covering (envelope) and unfolding it, avidly devoured its contents.

“Confound it!”  The smile of a moment ago quickly turned into a frown.  His hunches, it seemed, had been right on.  Zaur had hoped that, for the first time, he might have been proven wrong, but the letter had only confirmed his suspicions.  With a furrowed brow, Zaur Stugr took his angry stare away from the page.

This is quite serious, indeed.  He shook his head.  Why, in all this time, with all the spies they had planted in that region, why hadn’t one of them detected anything till now?  How could such a competent group simply miss out on an event of this magnitude?  This was not something that happened overnight.  An army was being raised, for Heaven's sake!  How could such a thing remain undetected, furthermore, so completely hidden for that length of time?

Zaur Stugr had absolute confidence in his men; he knew they could not be bought, threatened, or coaxed into shirking their duty.  This meant that at some prior point this group’s cover had been blown and, besides being kept in the dark, they too had methodically been fed misinformation.  Infuriated by this temporary setback, Zaur wearily leaned his back into the plush chair and closed his eyes in deep contemplation; after a spell, his attention back on the letter, he picked it up and perused (more meticulously) every minutest detail, seeking to uncover well disguised, subtle nuances. Zaur’s elation was short lived, and his expression grew even more solemn as he reflected on the specific, supposed happenstances of the last six months. The letter had affirmed his suspicions of Korion’s ultimate hidden agenda (objective) with its long-term implications.  In the months to come, Wenjenkun would become inexorably drawn into deepening conflict with Kontu with ever widening consequences.  Korion would do its best to see to that.

“All right.” in the end he nodded self-consciously as he committed the letter to the embers of an incense burner kept close by for just such a purpose.  “I can't just deal with this matter on my own, not when the nation's security is in jeopardy. I must find a subtle, an ingenious way to broach the subject and inform Lamont Gudaren of this dangerous development.”

Leaning back, he again closed his eyes and pondered on the concern: whether Wenjenkun would withstand a lengthy and costly war of attrition with an equally determined and decidedly warlike state such as Kontu. Moreover, Kontu had access to ample rich resources in the well fortified northern islands and was now bent on extending its horizons onto the main body of the continent.

03-DENG HEDENKO (27)

Zaur was all too familiar with the unsurpassed tactics of Hedenko's past conquests: his brilliantly executed strategies, his diplomatic manoeuvrings, and his ingenious offensive campaigns.  Zaur had kept himself apprised of Kontu's recent status of an emerging imperial nation, and the fact that its economic power and military prowess, in a short while would reach its zenith. Their political stability was another consideration in comparison to Wenjenkun. Emperor Deng Hedenko was a competent, strong, and quite ruthless leader, much like Sovereign Zakhertan Yozdek.  Once a rapacious ruler sets his sights on a verdant objective, he would be virtually unstoppable.  It was a foregone conclusion that any targeted nation would be swallowed into the raging forge of their conquered domains or wiped entirely from the very face of History.

Zaur could not, of course, underestimate Wenjenkun's resilience and equally predatory Zakhertan Yozdek’s resourcefulness; but the Nation (State) and the Imperial family’s interests at present had detrimental rifts. To boot, there were strong factions entrenched in the core government, who would seize this golden opportunity to make a short-sighted deal with the new devil to attain (gain) more power. 

What concerned Zaur most, however, was the superiority of Kontu's armaments, the recent technological advances they had made in metallurgy and weaponry.

Rising to his feet, with his hands clasped behind him, Zaur Stugr paced the room then, wheeling about suddenly and with bold strides marched right out the door. 

Perched on the roof Nevetsecnuac, had eyed Zaur's obvious inner turmoil, with perplexity.  Noting the fact that the first light of the new day would be upon them soon, he abandoned the idea of following Zaur from his offices and instead headed directly back to his own sleeping quarters.

                                                                        ~

 

Zaur Stugr’s speculations about Hugen and Uyuk meanwhile had been right on the mark (dead right).  Having discerned earlier on, the presence of the eavesdropper, the two spies had safeguarded their actions and deliberately imparted misinformation to throw the snoop Deizvor entirely off course.  Moreover, both being masters of disguise and possessing superb stamina and martial prowess, they had also successfully shaken off their latent ardent pursuers and were now headed, unencumbered, once more in the direction of Korion.

Despite an intense countrified alert for the two spies, Hugen and Uyuk had eluded capture simply by journeying in the broad daylight and passing through endless checkpoints perfectly disguised as a merchant couple (as man and wife).  But the disguise carried its own drawbacks as, more times than Uyuk cared to remember, he had been hit upon (sexually manhandled) by the licentious guards. It took great restraint on his part not to pulverize these offending sentries; they were instead mollified, by dispensing bribes along with the hint of future compliance. 

Then came a period when, in the interest of making good time, they had opted for the shortcut routes of Hugen’s choosing and traversed through isolated, especially rough and perilous terrain; where which they had more than once, encountered, not only wild, carnivores’ beasts but also marauding bandits who had them pegged for an easy prey.  After locking horns with these two undercover agents the bandits, however, were the ones who were disarmed, disgraced, and then robbed of what little valuables they carried.  The bested and badly wounded brigands scurried off in fear of their lives like the rats they were, tail tugged between their hind-legs, morbidly ashamed to ever recount of the encounter.

04- HUGEN (45)jp

Being adept at surviving under the harshest conditions, Hugen deemed (considered) all these arduous, hair-raising experiences as trifling adventures.  For him the journey was a breeze, it was going off without a hitch and through it all he hummed a tune of some song.

Uyuk, on the other hand, held a much different opinion. His strong constitution weathered the hardships with ease all right, but these were seen by him as an unnecessary imposition.  He was a pragmatist and valued his comfort whenever he could get it; hence, he increasingly became resentful of Hugen’s obstinate eccentricities.   

 

(END OF SECTION 13)                                            

 

 

LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC – THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL – SECTION 1 

At the appointed time, as mark of great favor Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren had sent his own personal carriage bearing the insignia of his office and complete with its impressive entourage to (transport) convey Fradel Rurik Korvald to his own residence where, as the quintessence of invitation had put it, a small gathering of a few intimate friends eagerly awaited the Illustrious Scholar’s distinguished presence.  More a command than an invitation, Fradel Rurik Korvald therefore acquiescing to this requisite social obligation, at noon had graciously entered the Prime Minister’s carriage. Close behind at a prescribed respectful distance had followed the minister of Ceremony Zaur Stugr’s closed carriage.

Some time later both carriages had promptly arrived before the bronze gates of the Prime Minister's ostentatious mansion and no sooner they had cleared the gate, they had been greeted by the delighted Lamont Gudaren who had rushed out at once to personally welcome his honored guest Fradel Rurik Korvald. The Prime Minister then graciously and humbly assisted Fradel to alight from the carriage. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Fradel with the utmost deference, was escorted by Lamont Gudaren, up the stairs and then ushered into the PM’s stately residence.

01- RICH RESIDENCE  OF PM.JP 2

On the way to the main reception hall Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) with Lamont’s humble apologies, was discretely told, that Lamont’s niece and Emperor's chief consort Lady Sejon, one who had advocated for Fradel Rurik Korvald to be in Channing, having caught a slight chill the night before, would regrettably be absent from this small private gathering. There was one other, thankfully, who would not be there and that was the Minister of Internal Security, Egil Viggoaries.

When they finally entered the main vestibule, Fradel saw at once that he had been grossly misled, and that far from it being a small private affair, the atrium had been filled with (surfeit) plethora of eagerly awaiting prominent dignitaries. Fradel was first introduced (with much fanfare) to Lord Shouzi Yozdek, and then with abject apologies quickly whisked away and, in midst of the whirlwind of social protocol (etiquette), circulated to make acquaintances of all the key influential guests, ones that had showed up chiefly to curry Fradel's patronage and, as a bonus, also ingratiate themselves extra into the good graces of their patron P.M. Lamont Gudaren.

02- THE GUESTS AT THE PARTY JP 10

All this while Prime Minister Lamont had never ventured too far from Fradel's side and kept on smiling smugly as though Fradel Rurik Korvald was already his personal tyro (his client or protégé).

Fortunately for Fradel (Nevetsecnuac), he already possessed the required attributes (incredible patience, brilliant mind, wit, eloquent tongue, tenacity and skill) to pass as an illustrious scholar and to with ease, make a success of this most irksome (exasperating) situation: convincing and indubitably impressing (dazzling) even the most astute (most discriminating) elitists and  the not so secret affiliates of Egil Viggoaries,  who’d blatantly infiltrated the shindig with the sole purpose (objective) of gathering pertinent damaging  info on the Scholar Fradel Rurik Korvald. After a prescribed respectful time, armed with their inequitable but nevertheless distressingly insipid reports, these brazen spies of the Dark Eunuch had all quietly departed (taken their leave early). The rest of the high society’s most influential and distinguished guests (comprised of, brilliant scholars, shrewd politicians and their wives, and the bold military personnel, not to mention other factions’ covert agents) clad in their gaudy, jewelled attires /garbs had unfortunately, incessantly, swirled around Fradel like erudite cyclone.

03- FRADEL AT THE PARTY

Despite his resilience and tenacity, as the time progressed Nevetsecnuac, had found this supposed academic repartee, a flamboyant display of sardonic (scathing) social banter and gluttony (all under the guise of entertainment), increasingly (disdainful) intolerable; more so, as there had been no end to the cornucopia of sporadic (intermittent) debauched and licentious pranks. To foster this outcome, the guests had all along been continually plied with potent and rare extravagant drinks by the circulating, scantily dressed, voluptuous female attendants; close behind them came the secondary group of pubescent male attendants, carrying trays heaped with various tantalizingly exotic morsels, to gratify even the most discriminating sensibility and tastebuds.

At the appropriate hour, a large bronze gong was struck with a mallet, whereupon the guests were then all shepherded into an elaborate, huge banquet hall.  The specifically (strategically) arranged seating, placed Fradel at hearing range between Lord Shouzi Yozdek on one side and Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren on the other. The rest of the afternoon and all through the feast (banquet), the burnished gold plates on the tables were continually piled high with every imaginable kind of bounty of gourmet dishes; additionally, gilded goblets (with embedded semi-precious gemstones) were kept perpetually filled to the brim with the finest, most fragrant alcoholic beverages. Countless servants bustled about in a silent, choreographed ballet, going back and forth, fulfilling every wish, whim, or outrageous desire of the guests.  The din of the pretentious chatter rising above the orchestrated lively music grated on Nevetsecnuac’s ears, as the ongoing entertainment with remarkable performances by colourful acrobats and dancers, all, served only to plunge him into a deeper state of dismay (heightened state of annoyance). Despite his outward (superficial) calm, his stomach had begun to churn, his livid state fueled by the incessant wagging tongues that vied in a whirlwind of deceit to win still more merit with Lamont Gudaren, himself, or some other official that they had spied from across the room. 

“This room is as empty of truth and propriety (morality) as it is full of avaricious people.” Nevetsecnuac, seated at the honoured position inwardly seethed. His patience wearing dangerously thin, he yearned to escape it all, if only for a brief spell.

A chance finally presented itself when Lamont Gudaren’s attention was drawn-away, by the eruption of a strong disagreement and an ensuing brief, heated (a violent) scuffle (almost a fray, exchange) between the two very inebriated dignitaries on the open verandah. As two of the quests hastened to pacify them, Nevetsecnuac seized this opportunity to ask his host's permission to be excused and, to visit the lavatory.

04-THE GUESTS IN DISPUTE AT THE VERANDA JP 12

After doing his business Nevetsecnuac was in no great hurry to get back and so for a spell he meditatively sat at the edge of the marble fountain; then desiring some more respite, he stood up and strayed off the general path to investigate less accessible sectors (regions) of the elaborate garden.  His lungs thanked him for the deep draughts he took of the refreshing air; meanwhile, light zephyrs (light winds) flavored with the scents of the exquisite flowers that adorned the grounds, sporadically wafted to tantalize his nostrils. Still reluctant to return, he strolled further in, delighting in the gentle breeze that caressed his red-hot cheeks, as he wandered aimlessly over-elaborate bridges and down the winding pathways that skirted miniature lakes ringed (encircled) with token forests.  Orchids decked out rocks and stumps with their delicate blossoms.  His heart and soul gradually lightened as their natural beauty in this tranquil setting lifted the onerous burden of socialization from his shoulders.  Without realizing it, his meanderings had taken him quite ways off (far away) from the banquet hall and, so as not to get too far lost, he was about to retrace his steps back when, hushed voices just then drew his attention to a distant spot beyond the pavilion, to an almost hidden sector,  that was nestled by the carefully manicured tall hedges of juniper and atypical (rare type) trees.

 

05- BEAUTIFUL GARDENS  AT PM'S RICH RESIDENCE JP 7 2

He stood rooted to the spot, fighting the urge to investigate the source of these urgent sounding whispers when, unexpectedly two figures immersed in a serious exchange, suddenly materialized (emerged, became visible) from the shadows of the dense tree- foliage (greenery).

Nevetsecnuac recognized one of them at once as being Zaur Stugr.  “What? Here too?” he frowned. “Would he never cease, not even for a bout, with his incessant plotting? It is tiresome enough deducing the scope of his machinations?” Before Nevetsecnuac could retreat however, Zaur's keen eyes had detected his presence and, quickly masking his momentary annoyed surprise, Zaur grinned and rushed over with his right arm extended, his companion close at his heels, to greet Fradel Rurik Korvald. 

Halting in close-proximity, Zaur Stugr nodded in polite salutation then proceeded to introduce the apparent latecomer to the banquet, as an old, distinguished friend, the esteemed Undersecretary Lenny Sukzor.

The name struck Nevetsecnuac like a thunderbolt; hence, he tersely looked down to conceal his inner shock, before he extended his customary greeting to Lenny.

Nevetsecnuac’s mind, meanwhile, had reeled (whirled) with uneasy questions: What is this… is he the same Lenny Sukzor, a certain affiliate of The Black Molochs?  The same Lenny Sukzor whose name Commander Zhadol had let slip to, Lieutenant Yennic, back at Cyprecox Pass!

Unfortunately, once more, Zaur's trustworthiness had again, come into question. What schemes were being hatched here?  How can Zaur Stugr fit in, with this known ally of Minister of Internal Security, Egil Viggoaries, the most powerful Eunuch in Wenjenkun and an ardent nemesis of Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren? Furthermore, had Zaur just then introduce him as an old, close friend? Conspiracy heaped on collusion, is there no end to this official's vices?

Nevetsecnuac's heart was gripped with foreboding as he remembered how, in all innocence; he had rendered the mysterious key to this now passionately believed, duplicitous (hypocritical) minister. Could this portend future trouble/ hindrance (impediment) for him? No! Nevetsecnuac quickly dismissed that notion; Zaur Stugr had no reason to doubt the story he had given him, though just as well, that he'd altered the truth in part. 

Under the pretense of outwardly congenial chatter Nevetsecnuac scrutinized Zaur more keenly out of the corner of his eye. Imagine consorting so brazenly with the enemy, both invited guests in the home of their presumed ardent foe… hmm? Nevetsecnuac could not help but marvel at such audacity, the cunning complexity beneath the affable exterior.

 No, that was not it at all. Just then another notion quickly manifested in his mind. From everything he had seen and understood, Prime Minister Lamont Gudaren was far too shrewd to be, misinformed or be careless, and his security was too pervasive, especially here. With all the hidden spies about it was inconceivable that this meeting could transpire without the Prime Minister's knowledge and acquiescence. More likely Zaur Stugr was conducting (acting in accordance with) his superior's instructions. If so, what diabolical scheme was being- hatched here? What odious intrigue was in the works? Nevetsecnuac again inwardly queried, perplexed with this subtle web of alliances and treachery that were perpetually being spun, under the guise of norm, within the walls of the Imperial Capital Channing.  Since his arrival in Capital city, he had noted partly in dismay, that nothing, no one could be (relied upon) counted on to be what they seemed at face value.  In this diabolically superficial world even nature itself was, molded and manipulated, into a totally controlled representation of, someone's imaginings (dreams) and whims.

06- LENNY SUKZOR (12)JP

Covertly sizing up Lenny Sukzor, Nevetsecnuac found it hard to believe that this strikingly handsome young minister with his distinguished bearing and fine manners was anything other than what he appeared to be: sincere, upstanding, likable, and eloquently articulate being.  Indeed, this amiable mask he wore could dupe even the worldliest, cunning, and calculating official (bureaucrat, administrator).

Nevetsecnuac reflected again on the fact that Zaur had introduced Lenny Sukzor as an old, close friend. Even one as discerning as Minister Zaur, not being immune to Lenny’s charms, could be, beguiled. Was it conceivable that Zaur was unaware of Lenny Sukzor’s complicity with Eunuch Egil Viggoaries? If so, he could be in grave danger. He may be passing on information to the other side, and with the Prime Minister's blessing, no less.

His quandary, however, was short lived. “No, if I believed that, I'd have to have been born yesterday.” Nevetsecnuac shrugged it off. As it were all this array of intrigues, albeit an entertaining diversion, had kept his mind bit off course from the main objective.

Tad ashamed, Nevetsecnuac presently directed his full attention on the undeniable fact that from the very moment he’d arrived at the Imperial city all the culmination of what he’d seen and heard had determined that the invincible, solid defensives and indomitable sentinels shielding the core, more specifically the Imperial Palace in Channing, were quite impenetrable.  Additionally, the multitude of spies and the dire vigilance of the Black Band Guard Regiment, which was Zakhertan Yozdek’s private invincible militia guarding him, had left Nevetsecnuac with but one option: to persevere in this odious disguise until the appointed date of summons.

Nevetsecnuac till then would continue to maintain his aloof (standoffish) disposition, patiently tolerating these upper crusts’ (polite society’s) machinations till it was time for him to strike. This afternoon being, already lost, he forwent any further speculation about Zaur or Lenny’s motives and instead, allowed himself one last (heedless) bit of fun for the reminder of the day. Subsequently, he turned his undivided attention back on the ongoing outwardly cordial, amusing, yet highly exuberant altercation between the two brilliant minds (officials).

Both arguments were properly marshaled, yet Nevetsecnuac was quick to discern (discerned) beneath the lucid, academic exchange the subtle riddles, plays on words, the underlying assertions that underpinned a benign discussion. He could not help but be increasingly impressed by Lenny Sukzor’s ready repartee, his eloquence (of tongue) and the complexity of meanings in the brilliant profusion of his images.  The views themselves were most profound and his judgments so very sound. With his ready command of puns and colloquialisms he was a good match for Zaur Stugr. For the most part Lenny Sukzor would appear most tractable to the points Zaur had put forth then, at an unexpected turn he would, with uncanny precision and skill, insert his own cunning, complexities backed by appropriate quotations to bring the subject over to his own point of view and cast serious doubt over the shambles of Zaur's arguments he had left behind.

Minister Zaur Stugr was no less talented.  A sure virtuoso, his eyes sparkling with mischief, he retaliated in the same good humor with impressive, lucid arguments that oscillated between the two extremes, dazzling Lenny with no less pointed, skewed logic. The irrefutable theories, wrapped in brilliant metaphor sometimes forced Lenny Sukzor to concede and retract what they both knew to be the truth. Then with mutual admiration they exchanged ciphers, whose meanings were different than those outwardly expressed yet, the connotations of it, was clear to both Lenny and Zaur.

07- SPARRING WITH IDEAS AND NOTIONS

The precipitously exchanged wittingly cryptic (ambiguous) words, with slyly ingenious connotations (undertones) beneath it, which Zaur and Lenny had incessantly volleyed (lobbed) between them, would have baffled anyone, save for Nevetsecnuac, who was equally adept (proficient) at, analytical, abstract (conceptual) geneses and their sort of odd logic. In fact, he interjected with articulate subtlety from time to time to manoeuvre the discourse onto an alternate path neither one of them were prepared to take. Unwittingly steered onto this atypical theme (topic) and swept along by its momentum, they had then animatedly discussed its ramifications, under the orchestration of the new games master, Fradel Rurik Korvald (Nevetsecnuac). Engaged thus, the trio had gradually advanced through the unfrequented garden paths to eventually rejoin the general area of the bash (party, shindig).

Nevetsecnuac had estimated (assessed) that Lenny Sukzor, having gone to this length to ingratiate himself with Zaur Stugr and Lamont Gudaren, would have stayed on for the duration of the banquet and filled his arsenal with the tidbits dropped by the Prime Minister's increasingly inebriated clientele. Even these snippets could have proved effective if Lenny had the aim of fomenting trouble in the opposing camp. Therefore, Nevetsecnuac was surprised when, shortly after their return, Under-Secretary Lenny Sukzor had discretely asked the Prime Minister's leave (excused) from the party, claiming another, very pressing engagement which, to his deep regret, he could not get out of (away from).

Also of interest was that Lamont Gudaren only put up a token show of displeasure as he acceded to the request. As Lenny Sukzor discreetly slipped away during a distraction provided by a brilliant gymnast, Nevetsecnuac was shocked (struck), by the tacit smile exchanged behind his back by the Prime Minister and Zaur Stugr.

“It’s all a chess game with them!”  He scoffed. Clearly there were no real victims here, only adroit players, each quite adept at strategic manoeuvring of pieces into posts, all the while tugging on the strings of deception and laying invisible traps, to hasten the astonishing yet feral conclusion.

 

(END OF SECTION 1)

                                                                                              ~ 

 

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - ON THE WAY TO THE CAPITAL - SECTION 32

 

 With nothing else left to do, Tizan donned (wore, put on) Captain Duko's attire over the light armor he kept on underneath to protect him from arrows then, as ordered, went back below decks to retrieve (fetch) Disaidun Agripe.

This time quite unexpectedly, Disaidun’s spineless husband, having mustered all his courage, charged at Tizan just as they were headed out the door. 

 

01- CEROS AGRIPE STRIKES BACK

Though Ceroz Agripe was half-crazed, filled with remorse and rage, he was still no match for the Lieutenant of Imperial guards and so, with just one blow from the back of his fist, hardly any effort at all on Tizan's part, Ceroz was hurled right across the room, bloodied and almost cataleptic (almost out cold), to crash onto the floor of the cabin.

 "You dare oppose me, wretch!" Tizan’s rage not assuaged, growling he went over to deliver a couple of vicious kicks to the Ceroz's side; the force of the second kick was such, it lifted the massive body up and slammed (smashed, crashed) it against the far wall of the cabin.

 

02- CEROS AGRIPE KICKED TO FAR END

 Tizan turned his fiery gaze back to the woman Disaidun Agripe and bellowed.  "What have you done to him to bring him to such a state?"

Not condescending to answer, Disaidun Agripe simply shrugged and walked on ahead.

“Quite the vixen, aren't you?” Tizan smirked as he locked and barred the door behind them.  In truth he liked a woman with such spunk but, since Captain Zunrogo had taken special interest in her, she was off-limits to him.  Such was the rule he had always lived by and continued to follow. 

Grabbing Disaidun Agripe’s arm forcefully next, and ignoring her volley of threats, he lugged (toted) her to the barricade.  "This is your post.  The captain forbids you to stray an inch from this point…  Understand?"  Only then Tizan let go of her arm. He was inwardly thrilled at her repressed seething contempt for him, and could not help but provoke her further, "We have only a few hours now before the fog lifts.  If you want to pray for your salvation, go ahead; now may be your only chance."  He smirked.

 

Her retort froze on her lips when her eye just then caught the exceptionally crafted crossbow leaning in the far corner.  Walking over, Disaidun Agripe picked it up, examined it carefully and said, “Where did you find this?  It’s magnificent."

Then, she sedately withdrew an arrow from its quiver.

 

“Show off, as if you can discern a good weapon from a bad one.  Some maven (expert, professional, doyen) you are.” He’d inwardly scoffed, fixing his cold gaze at her; Tzan once more could not resist goading (inciting) her, "You do know how to use it, I trust?".

 

Disaidun Agripe did not answer him but, instead, loaded the arrow in the blink of an eye then aimed it directly at Tizan's heart and asked. “Do you want a demonstration?"

This was too much!  Throwing his head back and trusting his hidden armor, Tizan laughed heartily, "Go ahead, I dare you to."

 

03-TZAN JP

Just then Zunrogo appeared on the scene, his stern looks at once sending Tizan without another word, scurrying off to above deck, to take up his assigned post.

Disaidun Agripe’s (Jepipi's) alluring approach was met with the same icy rebuke.

Not taking it to heart, she behaved as if he bade her, sizing up Zunrogo from the corner of her eye and admiring his heroic countenance.

 

“By the Gods, he is magnificent! “Gearing up for this single, bitter battle, she was positive he would triumph over any foe, however invincible, before the end of the day.

                                                                                         ~

 

For seemingly endless hours now, Disaidun Agripe (Miss Jepipi) had fidgeted at her post.  These times preceding an engagement (battle) had always seemed to drag on forever; furthermore, the angry rants and ravings of her half-crazed husband Ceroz, only two doors down aggravated her soul and ignited her ire, making things far worse.

“Oh, why won't he shut up?” Disaidun Agripe groaned, for her conscience bothered her a little now; after all, it was she who had brought him to this state.

“But it was necessary,” she told herself to ease the guilt.  “I had to do what I did to survive.  Why couldn't he be a bit more like his half-brother?  Insipid fool brought this misfortune down upon himself because he's less of a man, he’s so weak! “Her face contorted in disgust.

 

                                                                             ~

 

Yesterday, upon her return from her blissful experience with Zunrogo, she had hesitated for a few moments outside the cabin door, just long enough to dishevel her hair, loosen her belt, scratch her shoulders, and rip her bodice slightly, altering her appearance and assuming a tragic countenance.

 Let inside and, finally free (away) from Tizan's prying eyes, Disaidun had then given an incredible performance of a woman who had been both physically and mentally abused.

 

Ceroz Agripe already looked haggard, his face unusually gaunt and pale, and his eyes sunken and bloodshot.  It tore at his heart and ripped his bowels to shreds, nearly driving him to the brink of insanity to hear Disaidun’s embellished accounts of the shameful mauling (pawing, battering) that she had supposedly endured at the hands of that vile, lecherous old official, Luvet. That’s right; not Zunrogo but Luvet, her husband was led to believe, was the supposed sole perpetrator of this grievous sexual assault on his beloved wife Disaidun.

 

04- LUVET

Luvet’d spared her face but not her body, under her garments, she’d claimed, was all black and blue as testament of his ill treatment. She had brazenly offered to show it to him but Ceroz, the fool, trusting in her implicitly, simply taken her at her word.

Ceroz Agripe was further led to believe that, behind Luvet's seemingly benign, quiet disposition lay a calculating, sinister, greedy, licentious, and vindictive villain who had, from the moment he’d laid eyes on Disaidun, lusted after her and from then on shamelessly had striven (endeavored) to possess her.

The convincing story Disaidun fed her husband was wretched enough in itself but her quiet tears, her unspoken insinuations just compounded Ceroz’s already intolerable existence, his unbearable misery. Highly incensed, Ceroz Agripe’d gnashed his teeth, shaken his fist in the air and vowed to exact vengeance on that dog's spawn. 

“He'd make him pay dearly for his vile deeds, enlist the help of his half-brother, Zohuj Kez and his influential friends, if needs be.”

"And how do you propose to survive this present danger?  You know you're powerless to stop him or them."  Disaidun had rebuked him, then relayed to him the information she’d overheard, when they thought she’d passed out, in Luvet’s cabin.

Luvet the mastermind, Ceroz Agripe came to believe, had conspired from the start with Captain Doku, the two assassins, the Imperial guard Tizan and Captain Zunrogo, and the seemingly upright scholar, to intercept in mid-stream a tribute vessel bound for the Capital with its cargo of gold bullion.

The details of this grand larceny had been worked out months in advance, down to the minutest point and, the specific measures needed for smooth transition and the eventual execution, now had been finalized.  Many more were involved in a scheme of this magnitude, including some subversives planted on the targeted vessel. The few expendable passengers/witnesses, like them, were all imprisoned in their cabins, to be dealt with later; their predictable demise, however, would eliminate (eradicate) any possibility of trouble later-on.

Then she reminded her husband how she had wanted to disembark along with the other, lucky passengers when the opportunity had availed itself, when there was still time.

She blamed him, on his short-sightedness, his eagerness to reach his new post, and consequently, for this terrible predicament.

Her ill luck had also been the contributor. She then softening, had exclaimed, looking as though she desperately sought to exonerate at least in part, his guilt, which further endeared her to him, “How wonderful she was; how so very naïve to believe in nonsensical superstition.” Fool that he was, she could read him like a book.

 

05-CEROS AND DISAIDUN AGRIPE

 “Oh, darling husband, what can we do, what can you do to save me?” Once more she had wept unconsolably, heart wrenchingly.  After which, when she, feeling terribly parched, dried her eyes, and asked her husband to fetch her some water from the jug.

Her husband eager to please and to console her had rushed to do her bidding.

 It was at that point in time, when she looking even more dismal (gloomy), robbed him of least hope, by telling him that before she was sent back, she had been told, but was afraid to tell him till then, how the villain Luvet intended to murder Ceroz and the baby and if she did not agree to be his concubine in future, he threatened to sell her into slavery (bondage).

As for the reasons why, she had been sent back, it was simply to allow her to say her final farewells, while they finalized their plan and corrected prior overlooked areas of incongruity (conflict ).

"Oh, dear husband our bliss has been so cruelly cut short; as doomed individuals we are, robbed of ecstasy of growing old together. You’ll never see your son grow up. He’ll never grow up! “Disaidun Agripe had looked at him with hurtful, resigned eyes then burst into loud sobs to once more, wrench his heart.

She’d watched (seen) from the corner of her eye how self-loathing and reproach gnawed at his entrails, how flustered, how sickened at heart he’d suddenly felt, in his dire predicament.

For a brief second, seeing how she had broken him with her words, she had felt the stirring of remorse tugging at her conscience; but she had already resolved in Zunrogo's cabin to carry this ploy through to the bitter end.

"Don't worry, husband," her heart again hardened, she had seized this opportunity to add salt to his open wounds.

 "I will not blame you for what will happen to me in future. As I said earlier, I was born under an unlucky star; it has been my curse my entire life.  I don't see why it should change now.  I'm grateful for this one brief period of happiness you have given me.  It will be one fond memory I will carry with me to my grave."

Then once again Disaidun Agripe had recounted in detail, the shameful episodes with Luvet; at the end of which, she’d thrown herself at her husband’s feet, imploring him to have mercy and, by killing her right there and then, put an end to her torment.

 Of course, Disaidun knew Ceroz was totally incapable of such an act.  It was just one more pummel of guilt, another whack of disgrace, all, fostering chagrin, to further constrict the loop (strap, noose, snare, rope) around her husband’s neck, to sap his honor, his manhood and ultimately, push him over the edge.

Egged on by her pleading the fool had tried, given it his best shot too; to predictably in the end, when, she had started to turn ashen, when her eyes had bulged out only a little and, she had started to emit slight gurgling sounds, he had suddenly broken off his grip on her neck and then, with a horrified look on his face, fallen back.

"I can't go through with it! I'm no murderer." He’d cried out.

 “What did I almost do?” Traumatized Ceroz Agripe had glared hatefully at those still partially clenched, despicable hands that had almost taken the life of his beloved wife.

He had next, burying his face and fallen on his knees, had sobbed hysterically, uncontrollably, like a child.

 

06- DISRAUGHT CEROS AGRIPE

Disaidun Agripe, her senses restored to norm, though inwardly sullen, going over, had murmured her encouragement. "It’s all right, dear.  You did nothing wrong. I asked you to; I made you do it. You are not to be blamed. You are a good man; you always were.  We’ll be all right."  She'd then sobbed inconsolably as she cradled him and rocked his head soothingly in her arms.  "Please don't cry.”

 Drying her tears, she’d then to further shame him, promised resolutely, “You need not try, dear; I’ll find the strength somehow for us both and, avenge this wrong. This time I'll find it in myself too..."  She did not have to complete her sentence, for he had understood (grasped) her meaning. 

Disaidun would rather end her own life by throwing herself into the cold river and perishing in the watery grave, than suffer further shame. 

Her strong determination only belittled him further, robbing what little bit of humanity was left within him.  He felt smaller than a maggot, slime, a piece of offal.

 

 

                                                                              ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 32)